It Could Be Wrong
by CrazyDisasterForKicks
Summary: Harry's life came together in September of his 7th year and it was all due to a certain roommate... who he had never really noticed before now. In one look he was in love, the next he was obsessed. The Common Room would bring them together. Slash HP/DT


Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognizable.  
Warnings: OOC, Hand Job, (A little) Repetition, Bad writing, ect….  
Status: Complete.  
Pairing: Dean Thomas/Harry Potter (SLASH)  
Word count: 1,872

**It Could Be Wrong**

Is your secret safe tonight?  
And are we out of sight?  
Or will our world come tumblin' down?  
Will they find our hiding place?  
Is this our last embrace?  
Or will the walls start caving in?

It was only September when his life came together. Most would say he was too young, but it was the moment that he stepped from the train onto the platform and Harry caught sight of him that he knew it was true love. Maybe it was sappy or pathetic. He was adamant up until now that true love at first sight didn't exist. He would've argued for hours with Hermione on the simple fact that it was years of friendship, not just one moment, that made her fall in love with Ron. He could've—would've aargued till he was blue in the face. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Till now he had never really paid attention to all of the boys in his dorm room. Sure, he was friendly with Neville and knew Dean and Seamus okay, but he had never _talked_ to them. They were distant; his friendship with Ron and Hermione clouded his mind. Clouded his eyes. He never expected such beauty to have lived just a few beds down from him for six years.

Right now it didn't matter that he was a muggle born. It was just another reason to love him all the more. His cute smile, how his eyes sparkled when he laughed. The way his sinewy muscles contracted as he bent down. Harry had never been more fascinated in his life. His love could go from sweet and caring to mad and hateful in just a few moments. Usually he was calm and collected, just sitting with his friends in a corner in the common room. He could joke around, he could take a joke, and he was perfect in Harry's eyes.

There was only one major problem. Dean Thomas was completely straight. Woman only. No men. Never men. Not even a thought to men. The moment Harry had learned that he was still going out with Ginny Weasley his hopes slowly faded away.

Looking back on how he acted for a few weeks made him feel like a stalker. Thankfully nobody had really noticed his odd behavior. At least, that's what he thought. Hermione hadn't brought it up, but, then again, she had been so wrapped up in Ron lately she wouldn't realize if Voldemort came back from the grave to avenge himself.

It was the last day of September, when he couldn't sleep and all his previous thoughts about Dean being completely straight flew out of his mind. It was late so Harry had quietly walked down to the common room where the fire was still slowly burning. He sighed before curling up on his favorite armchair with a thick book. He hoped it would help him fall asleep.

It was only a few minutes later when Dean Thomas came stumbling down the stairs with a sketch pad, pencils, and clad in only low riding sleeping pants.

"Uh, hey Dean," Harry whispered.

Dean's head whipped around, surprise flitting over his features before he blushed. It was only then that Harry remembered that he only had short boxers on. He blushed slightly, averting his eyes from Dean. A few moments of awkward silence followed. "So, couldn't sleep either?" Dean asked, clutching his sketch pad tighter. Harry wondered briefly what drawings he had inside but squashed his curiosity.

"Hm," Harry hummed, "I still have nightmares sometimes." He didn't need to elaborate. Everyone knew about the Department of Mysteries Battle where Harry had killed Voldemort once and for all. He had lost his godfather along the way and had been put into a coma for a few months but the monster had been defeated. It was just like a fairytale. Except the Prince (Harry) hadn't ever gotten a Princess. It all seemed rather unimportant without the Prince getting anything in return for risking his life.

Maybe it wasn't the best fairytale.

Dean nodded his head, before glancing shyly up at Harry. "I was wondering, Harry, if- maybe, I could draw you?"

Cocking his head to the side, Harry took in Deans lowered eyes and shy smile and realized that the boy must be nervous. His hands were shaking slightly and before he could stop himself Harry leaned forward placing his hands over Deans. "Don't be nervous. I would love for you to draw me. As long as you promise only you and me will ever see it." He sent Dean a reassuring smile before backing away, letting his hands drop. They were still tingling.

Dean grinned at him before nodding. He opened his sketch pad to a blank page and chose a pencil. "How do you want me?" Harry asked, not missing the innuendo. Dean blushed again.

"Uhm, just sit like you normally would and maybe stare into the fire. Try to make it look like your staring past the fire, looking either into the future or past. I've never drawn somebody like that." Harry nodded before doing as Dean said and then staying completely still. He wanted Dean to have a good model, after all. During the hours that he sat there without moving he couldn't help but to take swift peaks from the corner of his eyes.

Dean was really concentrating. He's cute like that, Harry thought. Dean's tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes kept to the paper, as the pencil made swift strokes. He looked like the poster boy for concentrating. If that made any sense.

It was in one of those moments that Dean had looked up and caught Harry looking at him. His eyes widened and he blushed again. Harry had flashed him a grin before going back to his pose. He wondered if all the blushing Dean was doing meant that he liked him. It wasn't a possibility was it? He was going out with Ginny and didn't like boys. At least, that's what everybody thought.

It was early morning when Dean finished his drawing. Letting out an excited yelp as he put the finishing touches on it. When Harry looked at the drawing he gaped. It was… perfect. A bit dark but it was a given. His eyes were a darker emerald green and his hand curved around his face. It made him look older than he really was.

Harry looked up at Dean who was glancing at him with his teeth biting his lip. "It's brilliant," Harry breathed out. "I love it. When did you start drawing?"

Dean smiled at him, "I was about five when I picked up a pencil and decided I wanted to draw like my mom said my dad did. I guess it's all I ever wanted. At least, until a few years ago." He looked away from Harry; instead he took one of the many pillows and started playing with it. His hands were twitchy, and eyes only looking at the pattern on the pillow.

"What else do you want now?" Harry cocked an eyebrow. It was obvious that Dean was expecting that question and dreading it. The dark boy paled and gripped the pillow tighter.

"I- That's none of your business."

Harry pouted before moving to the couch Dean was sitting on. "Oh, come on!" He whined, grabbing Dean's hands. "It can't be too bad and I promise not to laugh or make fun of you or tell anyone. I wouldn't tell a soul. Not even Ron and Hermione. I wouldn't treat you any different and… Well, I know we've never been close but I really want to get to know you. I've been fascinated ever since the Hogwarts Express. And if that makes me sound like a stalker than I don't care!"

Harry tipped Dean's head up, "Why do you always look down and never up? You have beautiful eyes." Harry's own eyes widened as the last part slipped out unintentionally.

Gapping at him Dean didn't move as Harry's hand slowly started stroking his face. "I- Thank you?" Harry hummed again and moving his other hand to clutch at the side of the couch. It seemed like forever as Harry moved down and lightly touched his lips to Dean's. He paused; looking up at Dean's dazed look at pressed his lips a bit more firmly.

Slowly Dean began to kiss back as he pulled out of his shock. He gasped as Harry's tongue swiped along his bottom lip, asking for entrance. Harry slipped his tongue into Dean's mouth and moaned as the taste of Chocolate and Strawberries assaulted his senses. He pulled back, breathing heavily, "You like chocolate covered strawberries?" Absentmindedly he licked his lower lip.

Dean slapped his hand to his mouth in mortification. "You could taste what I had for dessert?"

Harry nodded at him, eyes puzzled. "I imagine you could taste Treacle tart from me…"

Dean blushed harder; it looked as if his face was going to pop a blood vessel. "I- Uhm, I- I'm sorry?"

A frown tugged at Harry's lips, "Why are you sorry? If anyone should be apologizing it's me. I'm the one who forced himself on a taken man." Harry moved to get up off of Dean (how he got there was a mystery) but a soft hand stopped him.

Dean bit his lower lip, "Don't move. I- you feel good laying right there." He snuggled into Harry, face between his neck and shoulder blade. Finding himself relaxing, Harry spread Dean's legs open so he could lie comfortably between them. He buried his nose in Dean's hair, taking in his unique smell. He was all ready addicted.

"You know," Dean whispered, "Ginny and I broke up a week and a half ago. She was pissed because I wouldn't give her any."

Harry shifted, accidentally brushing Dean's erection with his hand. "You wouldn't have sex with her?" Harry groaned, slowly stroking Dean through the material.

Dean's eyes widened before slowly closing in pleasure. "Mmmm, she was pissed because I was still a virgin." He admitted.

Harry stopped stroking him, "You're a virgin?" Dean nodded, shy again. "What were you waiting for?"

"It's not a what, more of a who." Dean told Harry, his face showing embarrassment once again.

"Who, then?"

"You." With Dean's answer Harry slowly started to stroke him again.

Harry smiled before claiming Dean's lips again. "I can't tell you how happy that makes me," he whispered huskily. Hand speeding up as Dean writhed below him. "I thought you were straight as can be and now here you are moaning like a wanton slut beneath me."

Dean thrust his hips up, meeting Harry's own erection with his. Moaning softly, Harry bit Dean on his neck, sucking lightly. It set Dean over the edge as he came, panting and groaning against Harry. "We should stop," Harry said as Dean got his breath back.

Giving Harry a hurt look Dean asked why. "I'd rather you lose your virginity to me on a special occasion. I don't want it to be in twenty minutes on the common room couches. Please, let me make that special for you." Dean nodded before snuggling into Harry.

Harry smiled, waving his hand to clean them up. "Let's get you up to bed," he murmured before lifting Dean up and walking up to the dorms. They fell asleep together on Harry's small bed. Bodies entwined.

Harry's life was definitely looking up.

(It could be wrong, could be wrong)  
But it should've been right  
Let our hearts ignite  
Are we digging a hole?  
This is outta control  
It could never last  
Must erase it fast  
But it could've been right  
(It could be wrong, could be)

Song: Resistance- Muse

**A/N: Ha, I had to repost this because I had some very obvious mistakes. I probably still do but here it is. Please review, it's always nice to see what people think of my work. I have internet finally! Lol. So here it is...again. **

**Please Review :)**

**CDFK**


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